#no consequences btw she’s fine

[musicalhistorical]

Spider Sona drabble

My Spidersona was originally created for the little nightmares games, so here’s a short for her, be warned of blood, body horror, forced cannibalism, and gore.

@oopsitszuli feel free to lmk if you want to be tagged when I write things like this!

Friends were never easy to come by in the pale city. Nor were they permanent; Euphie knew by bitter experience how awful they could be.

But…Pepe was different. They’d been resourceful, clever. When things got too much, when Euphie felt the hunger overcome her senses, it was Pepe that made sure that she was alright.

It was Pepe who came up with a pill for her to take that could satisfy her hunger.

And it was Pepe who gave her hope of a different kind of world. With her careless optimism, with her pinkie promises and wilted flowers crowns, she’d make Euphie believe in a world beyond the pale city.

But nightmares are never satisfied with being at the edge of your mind. The signal got to Pepe, a fresh impressionable child, with a mind that was so gullible. The airwaves and the televisions were so bad around Pepe that Euphie had to go first in every room to ensure there wasn’t a television in it.

But Euphie couldn’t be with Pepe forever; and one day she was hiding from the teacher, tucked away in a crate high above the classroom. Pepe was hiding in another room, only to let out a shriek as the television’s cruel waves worked inhumanly fast to distort the child’s body. First the body elongated, spine poking out of her back slightly. Her hands and legs lengthened, fingers sharpening into nails.

Her mouth became crowded with teeth; whilst Euphie’s was manageable, Pepe’s mouth was painfully overcrowded.

When Euphie found her friend, Pepe was unrecognizable. Eyes bulging out of her skull, features looking as though somebody pulled them off and squished in new ones. Her cries were no longer intelligent, and Euphie knew, with the calm distinction of a farmer needing to shoot a lame horse that Pepe needed to be put down.

So…she lured her former friend out into the streets. There’s no use doing this with dignity; it’s Euphie or Pepe at this point.

The battle is horrid; Pepe’s shrieks as she is struck are akin to the child she was- is, Euphie has to remind herself- but then again isn’t she a child? Why must she do this?

But then Pepe lunges for her, long clawed hand swiping towards her, and it briefly crosses her mind as she realizes that her friend wants her dead.

Euphie has no qualms against killing.

Because in her city, it’s the more humane way to dispatch her enemies.

For Pepe, there is no exception. There’s no exception for not eating as a way to survive, and so Euphie tears into her former friend, blood from her once partner and only friend staining her spider suit.

When she is finished, the carcass is almost picked clean, and she feels a surge of intelligence after she licks her teeth clean.

Her friend is unrecognizable, a far cry from the shy, goofy, and intelligent child that kept Euphie comfortable when the nights in the Pale City became too terrifying to bear alone.

It is at this moment when she, a lost child with nobody else to turn to and the biggest loss in her life on her hands, finds herself within the multiverse.

When she sees the others, each a Goliath over her, a girl no more than 13 inches tall, she flees. Hiding inside a vent, one of the few places that offered sanctuary in the city.

Still, she’s offered a place to stay- or at least get cleaned up. Her teeth have permanently distorted the way she speaks so she can’t articulate her fears like the others can. When she’s shown the multiverse and sees Pepe’s hologram, she looks at the floor in shame. Hunger affected every part of her life, but how can she can explain it to these strangers?

How, when her worst crime is on display for them all to see?

She barely listens as they go on to explain the police captain. She doesn’t know what that is or why that’s important, so she sneaks out of the room- a habit she has that has allowed her to get away from the most dangerous scenarios.

When her disappearance is noted, the first thought is that she’s trying to get back to save whoever the captain is on her world. But she’s in the vents, avoiding everything as much as she can before getting to the kitchen.

And the others come in to see her digging into a raw steak.

[euclydya]

💰!! <22

I will give you no context for this: We're trying to figure out how to perform an in-sys abortion. Um. Our ideas thusfar:

wait and hope the pregnancy just goes away. because knowing how our brain functions it will probably forget about this in a few irl days

punch the pregnant person (me) really hard in the stomach multiple times. this i brought up as a joke but Henrik was IMMEDIATELY like "ok!" and actually almost did it and i was like wAIT NO STOP AIIASIDJDJFJDJ

??????? simply not abort????????? but then that brings up a whole slew of other problems. Such as What is the birthing process going to be like. Will there even BE a birthing process??? Probably not because we're tokophobic I think. What uh. How do headspace pregnancies even work we've had this happen like ONE OTHER TIME and i cannot access that information right now. Do we even want to raise a syskid???????? WILL THE THING EVEN BE A SYSKID OR A COLLECTION OF UNFORMED FRAGMENTS???????? I DON'T KNOW AND IDK IF I WANT TO FIND OUT im about to ask henrik to start beating the shit out of me JAJAJSSKXJSJSJ

So like. That's how we've been spending our day today. HDDJZKXKDK

-Mal

[juicezone]

:’]

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[peppermint-whiskers]

Introducing:

An au by myself and @emositecc (all artwork here done by her, btw! 💖💖)

Premise: Because snake forms aren't common in Heaven, Pentious has to change forms per Sera’s orders in order to not make waves. At the same time, she places a spell on him that prevents him from speaking about who he was before and his time in Hell. Using the nickname Pen, he's sent down to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption, acting as the representative. While there, he has a lot of trouble reconnecting because of the spell and because of the weird deja vu the others get whenever he's around. It also doesn't help that they're still mourning Pentious—he can't tell them that he's okay and that redemption works.

He does succeed in reconnecting with them, but only as “Pen.”

It'll be done in 3 acts:

Act 1: Reconnection

Sir Pentious, under the alias Pen, is sent to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption. There, he struggles to reconnect with his friends, who are still mourning his supposed "death."

Act 2: Mind Wipe

After a disasterous event caused by Alastor, Pentious begs Sera to wipe his memories of his life before as it's the only way he can think of to ease the pain. This works for only a while, and the confusion between his two forms makes him restless. Emily smuggles him back to Hell to help him regain his memories.

Act 3: Consequences

After resolving the mind wipe, Sera realizes the error of her actions and tries in earnest to help Charlie's hotel with redemption. However, the reveal of the mind wipe and redemption causes waves in both Heaven and Hell.

Some artwork and snippets (written by me) under the cut!

No spoilers yet, obviously uwu

Snippet 1:

“The envoy is supposed to come today!” Charlie exclaimed, positively bouncing around the hotel lobby. “I'm sooooo excited! What do you think they'll be like??”

“Sexy,” Angel immediately said with his usual teasing tone.

“Respectful,” Vaggie sighed. After failed extermination, they've had countless meetings with Heaven, and the head seraphim has been . . . less than helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, dealing with Emily was much preferred to dealing with Sera.

“I just hope you know what you're doing,” Husk chimed in. “Inviting an angel to stay longterm here could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlie assured them. “We'll keep them safe, and they'll help us with redemption! It's a win-win!”

A circular portal opened up just outside the hotel. Squealing with joy, Charlie rushed outside to meet their newest friend and staff member. Out stepped a tall gentleman with dark skin, white hair, and a pale blue suit. His eyes seemed to look over the hotel with nostalgia—Charlie would bet anything that in life, he was a hotel manager himself. That would be just perfect! She could use a little more help than Alastor deigned to provide.

Snippet 2

Their new guest wasn't doing so well. Somehow, through fake coughs and weak insistence, Pen managed to convince Charlie that he didn't need to come out of his room, thank you very much. Charlie wasn't dumb, of course, and her sympathetic nature was just one of the many reasons Vaggie loved her. Instead of pressing the issue, she let Pen stay in his room for the day and let him continue claiming he was sick.

He may have convinced the others, but Charlie and Vaggie both knew better. Angels couldn't get sick, but this was one hell of a bout of homesickness.

Charlie herself brought meals up to his room and coaxed him to eat, and Vaggie went when she was busy, but he never once opened the door. After two days of this, Vaggie finally took it upon herself to see him herself and get to the bottom of this. Breakfast in hand, she headed up the stairs and prepared herself for a battle of wills of which she was sure she would win.

[bokettochild]

Just saw the update!

So, first thoughts!

Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!

(Wild is not impressed)

I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!

Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)

Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant

(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)

The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!

I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)

Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).

Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL

Also, this bit:

recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)

The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!

I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.

I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start

(Deep Shadows P.2)

(Likelike)

So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!

Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier

(Dawn p.8)

Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3

That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)

[hymen-restoration-project]

Okay. Fine. I'm making this blog because you fucking ASSCLOWNS keep posting shit that's so flagrantly unacceptable that, were it to be posted, would have angry righteous concerned citizens chasing you out of town with fucking pitchforks. I cannot for a god damn second believe any of you are posting in good faith. Take a fucking lesson in humility AND GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE. This is the INTERNET. The shit you post here HAS CONSEQUENCES. I didn't put up with losing my fucking cousin to your stupid bullying just to stand idly by and watch as you make the next kid cry and get off the internet forever. Which in this day and age is almost as fucking bad as physical assault or fucking murder.

Okay, now that I've got that shit out of the way. My introduction.

Hi, I'm Bethany/Jacks (if you're cool 😎). I'm not saying my age!!! (you creepy incels need to leave girls alone. Nuff said.) My pronouns are She/Her. I'm a proud Wisconsin girl:) (I LOVE cheese it's so good y'all.)

My DNI list is as follows!!!!!

DNI:

Adults over 25 / kids under 12 (preference! Sorry but you gotta be a teen to talk to yours truly :/) | MOBA players (yall are RACIST as FUCK my brother D (not saying his real name) plays League and he says f*ggot all the time. I can reclaim it because I'm bisexual but he does not have the pass.) Play SDV or animal crossing instead 🥱 | Vivziepop fans (UGHGHHHH) | Proshippers (GROSS!!!!!!!! GODDDDD!! Stop fucking kids...) | Homophobes / Transphobes / Alcoholics (Basically just anyone who is or says there my dad.) | Metal fans (Taylor is better. Later loser 👋) | Antishippers (Nuff said.) | Paw Patrol fans/stans | People who smoke. (Including weed 🙄) | Taylor Swift haters (You are the worst fucking people on the fucking planet I hate you more than Hitler and my dad. And she is gay btw. There isn't anything you can do about it.) | BTS / Kpop fans (nothing against y'all, I just don't like boys) | People who hate America (It's the land of the free for a fucking reason. Read a book.) | Racists | ISIS | Proshippers (Fuck you.) | Kink freaks (Maybe I'm biased but piss is weird) | Pro-life (Fuck you!!! Hands off my youterus) | and finally last but not least. Proshippers.

Anyway now that my DNI is out of the way let me tell you about my interests!!

I like Taylor Swift (obviously), Stardew Valley, puppies, kittens, baking, Animal Crossing, Netflix, tarot cards, witchy stuff, and other stuff too!

[lethby]

What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

I know it sounds crazy but if they could pull off lesson 16, they can pull this off

Make the brothers indecisive

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

[iamnmbr3]

Severus calling Lily a slur in a fit of rage and humiliation while being bullied - obviously very bad. James publicly sexually assaulting Severus - obviously much worse?!!! That was some serious sadism on display. Yet for some bizarro reason the narrative wants me to judge the words said in this scene more harshly than the deeds done, because at this point Lily - an author self-insert and the Holy Mother of this saga - cuts one off for their crime and falls in love with the other. I do not like that Lily’s romantic choice is treated as some sort of absolution, but it’s what JKR implied. Despite paralleling James’ actions with the Death Eaters ‘sick’ ’torture’ of the Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup! Idk, I was never satisfied with the lack of follow through on the implications of that scene, nor with the textual idea that Snape’s fixation on the Marauders is petty childishness, rather than a quite understandable trauma response.

Yeah. I have a huge issue with the way James is framed by the narrative. It's also weird because in-universe everything works fine. The problem comes when we look at the jarring disconnect between what was written and the way the audience is cued to react. James's characterization - and the characterization of the Marauders - is well done and consistent. They all act and react realistically given who they are. The problem comes when we look at how we the audience are supposed to react. Because we are supposed to see their actions as bad, but not THAT big of a deal. And uh...yikes.

The Snape's Worst Memory sequence is one of the most horrifying and sadistic moments in the series. I find it particularly visceral and upsetting because it feels real in a way that some of the more fantastical scenes just don't. It's so horrifying and personal in a way that Voldemort punishing his minions or a snake coming out of a lady just isn't. The way James and the others so obviously delight in tormenting and humiliating Snape is just horrific. And the fact that they do this out in the open and face little pushback and no consequences makes it even more awful.

Even worse, everything we see in the narrative suggests that what they did wasn't even that unusual for them. The behavior and dialogue we see from Snape and from the Marauders makes it very clear that doing this sort of thing to Snape is a regular pastime. The reason this is Snape's worst memory is because of the effect this particular incident ended up having on his relationship with Lily, not because of the horrible treatment he endured which was horrifyingly routine.

JK Rowling seems to like Snape. But at the same time I think she tends to have a view (common among TERFs btw) that discounts men as victims of assault. Because that's what this was. And I know if a woman had been stripped and exposed by a group of boys JKR would not have treated it as lightly. Yes she thinks what happened was bad, but not THAT bad. And listen I don't have a problem with the story depicting this and I think the way it is viewed subsequently by the Marauders, wizarding society and Snape all work in the story. My problem is with the framing and the way JKR has talked about James in interviews where it makes clear that she doesn't view this with the gravity it deserves.

James shows more of a natural inclination towards sadism and obvious enjoyment of cruelty and violence than young Tom Riddle does. And this is never dealt with. A lot of the real evil people of the world are more like James - people who aren't the way they are because of some dramatic backstory or because of trauma or whatever. They just aren't kind. James wasn't raised without love or forced to suffer privation in an orphanage or anything like that. He comes from a loving home with parents who spoil him rotten. He has a lot of privilege due to both his wealth and his blood status. And he is cruel and delights in tormenting someone weaker than him for sport. Not because Snape did something to him. Not because they quarreled and James went too far in retaliation. But rather because, as James himself puts it, he exists. Which is so typical of the bullies of the world.

I actually like the fact that Harry's father turns out to be this kind of person. It think it adds depth and complexity to the narrative. But I don't think JKR fully understood or intended what she wrote. She meant to show James as flawed, but not to the extent that she ended up doing I think. And I agree that has always bothered me too.

[itsharleystuff]

↳ II. 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘋

Read part one here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (once again, I’m sorry)

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after your steamy encounter with Joel during your homecoming party, things between you have been stagnant. Although, fate seems to be on your side when both Sarah and your dad have to leave town for a short while.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, Joel hits it from behind, blowjobs, some teasing, a bit of spanking, pet names (darling, sweetheart, honey), unprotected sex (pls do not attempt), cum eating, taking nsfw photos, Joel tries to be dom but fails, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), reader is kind of a brat, fluff and feelings (yes, this is a warning), alcohol consumption, brief mention of family death. Barely edited, sorryyy. No use of y/n.

—A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone but I suggest reading the previous part for a better understanding. Btw, there’s a couple of Easter eggs from the game in this! Also— I tried making a moodboard and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’ll probably stick to gifs in the future, lol.

“I like Indiana Jones," you babble, taking a sip from your coffee without looking at anyone in specific. "I was twelve and in love with Harrison Ford..."

"Okay, so that's one movie we're definitely not going to watch." Sarah chimes in, lazily chewing on her scrambled eggs. "How do you feel about Robert Pattinson?"

"That depends," you reply, moving your head side to side in a contemplative manner, "are we talking twilight or Harry Potter?"

You hear your dad snort on the other side of the table and see Joel chuckling beside him. Sarah crosses both arms over her chest and raises a brow at them. “What's so funny?"

"Nothing," your dad clears his throat and side-eyes his friend. "Just thought you two were a bit old for those crappy vampire movies. Maybe watch-"

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's a good idea to take recommendations from either of you," you cut him off, leaning back on your chair. "You're both obsessed with die hard, think The Godfather is incredibly complex and in your spare time watch construction programs. We'll be fine on our own."

"Touché..."

It's been three weeks since your homecoming party, and ever since then it has become a habit to have breakfast together every weekend. Today, Saturday, it was the Miller's turn to cook, which consequently had you and your father sitting at their table. As of now, you and Sarah were discussing your movie night, which had to be postponed due to her road-trip to San Antonio— apparently, she and her friend Ellie were going to visit some college campuses there.

It's also been three weeks since that little, hot encounter you and Joel had in your kitchen. And, contrary to your better judgement, both of you were more than eager to spend some extra time alone. Things since then had been uneasy, specially when being surrounded by others; always worried that someone might notice those stolen looks you'd share or sense the palpable tension that rose when you would stand too close to each other.

You try not to think about it. Except when you do. A swirl of memories would come flooding your mind in the most inappropriate moments, creating that heat that made you remember exactly how his fingers felt inside you, his tongue between your folds, the sloppy kisses and that feral, hungry look in his eyes while eating you out, touching you like you were the most precious thing on earth.

"How about pride and prejudice?" the girl wonders, standing up to clean her dishes and snapping you back to reality.

"Shit, I love period dramas!" your dad shoots you a reproachful glare at your language, but you chose to ignore it. "As a matter of fact, most of my designs are inspired by the Victorian and regency eras."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah recalls, "I remember I read about it in one of your blogs. Dad showed it to me, by the way..." Joel clears his throat loudly, making her giggle.

Although she had mentioned it before, it was still kind of weird that he acknowledged your work. At first you thought it was merely because he wanted to connect with you somehow, but lately he'd been asking if he could see your new sketches and would let you borrow some old magazines he had around the house. Your best friend, Sophie, mentioned he might've been trying to show his interest in you subconsciously. And she was that one psychic friend who believed in zodiac signs and angel numbers, so you decided to believe her.

In that moment, your dad receives an incoming call on his cellphone; he excuses himself and heads to the living room. Your eyes lock with Joel's, and the fact that he was uninhibitedly staring back at you drew a smug smile on your face.

"Are you interested in fashion, Mr. Miller?" he sulks out a dry 'no', but you could see him fidget with his watch nervously. "Pity. I thought maybe you could model some of my male designs."

Sarah genuinely cracks up at your comment, slapping one hand on the table. "You want dad to pose for you? Seriously?"

"Why not? I brought my Polaroid camera, I can get some very nice shots." You were partially joking, but deep down you just wanted to see how he'd react.

"I mean, I know dad's got his charm with women, or so they keep saying-"

"No way anyone says that," he rambles.

"But the idea of him modeling is probably the funniest thing I've ever heard."

The fact was that you didn't want to take pictures of him so anyone else could see them. You wanted them exclusively for yourself. A couple of naughty Polaroids to keep around for whenever you were aching for him —which has been nearly every fucking night since your arrival—.

"It was a silly idea," you finally agree, shrugging. Joel stands to take his things to the sink. "Do you really have to leave for the weekend? You're like, my only friend here."

"Uh, about that..." she leans in towards you and you can practically smell a scheme on her. "Would you be mad if I gave your number to someone?"

You can quite literally feel the man standing behind you tense up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, like... To a guy." She moves in her place, but there's still no answer from you. "He's my English teacher. His name is Will and he's super smart, young, really funny and very handsome, I might add. I believe he can be your new male model." Sarah adds that last bit with a grin.

When you turn your head to see Joel, there was a deep scowl etching on his face, his body remaining still as a stone.

"I don't know... As friends, maybe." You weren't sure why, but the idea of meeting anyone new didn't really sound appealing.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could actually do so, your dad walked in again. He appeared upset, gesturing nonsense and muttering impassively.

"What's wrong?" your tone comes out concerned.

"I have a meeting in Boston," he sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder apologetically. "Apparently it's urgent and I have to catch the next flight if I want to be there by nightfall."

"Oh, don't worry," you smile at him warmly. "I understand. Besides, I'm an adult. I can manage a weekend by myself."

He nods, still seemingly aloof. "I know but- I just wanted to spend some more time with you."

And of course you wanted that too, but saying it out loud could literally bring him to quit his job. He was always very extreme when it came down to you.

"What time d’you leave?" his friend asks him.

"Half past four. Why?"

"I can drop Sarah off at Ellie's and then drive you to the airport, if you'd like." Such a caring friend, Joel Miller. So selfless. Helping your dad out, attending his daughter's every special need...

"Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Take care of my little girl while I'm away."

You see his eyes gleam with a mix of unknown emotions, "Will do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The last few days had been no less than torment for Joel. Each moment that went by in which he didn't get a chance to be near you had him losing his mind. Badly. And it wasn't necessarily a physical thing— not always, at least.

Every morning, he would wake up and go to work, knowing for certain that when he comes back home he'll find you hanging around with Sarah or sitting out on your porch with a sketching notebook on your lap.

He liked to guess what you'd be doing.

Would you be playing board games with his daughter? Watching a movie or baking desserts? Maybe you were thrift shopping with your dad or simply going to the mall. And later on, when he finally gets to see you again, you'd tell him all about it.

Joel also liked to imagine what kind of clothes you'd be wearing. One thing he noticed is that you never stick to one particular style or aesthetic. One day you could be wearing pastel sundresses with ribbons in your hair; the next one could be long, black skirts paired with basic tank tops and multiple necklaces, or even something more extravagant, depending on your mood.

Seeing you was an experience— one that he could never get tired of. It's like every time he sets his eyes on you there's a certain color palette that changes constantly, or the feeling of gathering all your favorite songs into one playlist and then hitting the shuffle button. He never knows what to expect. Hence why he had given up on trying to relate you to the silly things around; like seasons, animals, artists or foods. Instead, he started associating you with feelings.

You were creative, unique and incredibly fearless. In a way, you made him feel uneasy, excited, thrilled, confident and many more emotions at the same time. If he had to describe you in one word, he'd say evoking.

Oh, how you pestered his brain.

He hated how much he thought about you, and how little guilt he felt from it.

Right now he was sitting on the drivers seat of his truck, waiting at the airport's parking lot. You asked him if you could walk your dad to his corresponding gate and he agreed. The downside: it had started to rain, probably not too bad for your dad's flight to be delayed but enough for your clothes to get soaked on your way back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you muttered, shutting the passenger's door behind you. “The seats are gonna get all wet..."

"Here," Joel takes off his jacket to place it over your shoulders.

It feels warm and it smells like him, "Thanks."

He starts the car without saying anything else, keeping his eyes glued to the road. You, on the other hand, could not stop staring at him. Now that no one else was around, there was no shame in admiring his side profile, the way his muscles flexed and his hands grasped the wheel. There was something inherently attractive about men driving, but- Jesus... This image had your mind roaming around dark places.

Suddenly, realization sinks in— you're alone.

Alone with him.

"I, uh..." he taps the wheel with his thumb, still avoiding your gaze. "I wanted to take you out for dinner. The weather kinda ruined it."

The corners of your mouth hitch up in a silly smile. "Too bad. I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

Joel hums, appearing somewhat distraught. In reality, he was fighting for his life. The clothes you chose to wear today were not fitted for the rain; denim mini-skirt, high pair of boots and a white top that complimented your upper body. He tried not to look at the raindrops rolling down your thighs or note how transparent your shirt has become, forcing himself to stare at your hands and the many rings that decorated your fingers, seeing there the one he gifted you.

"How about you come over to my place?" you suggest, trying to catch his attention. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes but... Maybe we can do something afterwards."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, still avoiding your gaze, "Like what?"

This time your voice goes lower, a smirk spreads across your face and something in your eyes flickers; a darker, sensual spark.

"Oh, you know..." your hand carefully comes to rest on his knee. His thigh tenses but he doesn't say or do anything to push you away. "Whatever you want."

He swallows hard, feeling the pads of your fingers run circles on his leg, your nails mildly scratching over the jeans in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin and eases his nerves.

"I've got a better idea," he says, keeping his tone calm —barely—. "Why don't you come to my house instead?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Sure, but- what about my clothes?"

And then he smiles cockily, as if this had been his plan all along, "Wear mine."

Well, there was absolutely no way you were going to turn him down. With a bit more boldness, you slide your hand a few inches up his inner thigh, still rubbing soothing patterns. His jaw clenched, but remained silent and apparently unbothered.

"Joel?" his name rolled off your tongue sweetly, in a way only you knew how to. He uttered a 'hm?' in retort. "Did you miss me?"

"I've seen you nearly every day," he answers playfully.

You laugh, stopping your movements and simply resting your palm there. "So... No?"

"Didn't say that, darlin'." The truck suddenly stops at a red light as he exhales heavily, giving in to you at last. "But I'll let you guess."

A push and pull game, like a cat chasing a mouse. Your smirk widens. "I don't think so. Not as much as I have."

His eyes scan your body from head to toe, the way you sit with your legs slightly parted, back laying flat against the seat and face turned towards him with heated cheeks and low gaze. Unexpectedly, your hand draws back from his lap as you start looking through your purse and a frown forms on his face, baffled by the loss of contact.

"Which is why..." you take the Polaroid camera out and see a whole shift in his eyes, like he's about to burst in laughter. "I brought this."

"No," despite his categorical denial, you still held the object up.

"You have a green light," he curses under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. "Just let me have one, please."

He sighs in defeat, "Why'd you want that?"

The rain had started to settle down but the air was still pretty cold, all that could be heard besides your own voices being the drops that crashed against the car.

"Cause you're handsome," he rolls his eyes sarcastically. "And I like you."

Hell, you were always so straightforward. It made his heart jump inside his chest, wondering if it was gonna burst out.

"You won't like me as much once you meet that Will dude," Joel prattles through gritted teeth, remembering his daughter's suggestion from earlier.

"The guy Sarah mentioned?" your brows furrow subtly. "Why? What's up with him?"

He yanks his head to the side, glancing over at you for a second, "Nothin'. Just thinkin' out loud." In spite of your puzzled expression, he decides to grant your wish. "I'll let ya' take it. But only if I get one in return."

Your lips purse in a smile, "As many as you like, Miller."

He doesn't say anything in response, but his grin doesn’t fade either and you managed to capture it on paper. The image slowly started to become visible and your first thought was how well it captured the whole 'Joel Miller' essence. It was a simple photo of him driving with one hand on the wheel and the other arm thrown lazily over the backseat. That denim shirt hugged his arms exquisitely, the rolled-up sleeves adding to his appeal. He was looking at you when it was taken, so you could see more than half his face— and the way he was grinning, you couldn't help but think he appeared so much younger when he did that. The entire thing felt so much like him: snuggly, blue, genuine and you absolutely loved it.

"There," you show it to him as he started to pull over. "Isn't it nice?"

"Just keep it to yourself, aight?" the man grumbles.

"F'course," with a spark of joy, you slide the photo inside your wallet. "Wouldn't want anyone else peeking at that gorgeous smile of yours. That's a treasure of my own."

"Shut up-" he rumbled, turning his face the other way and opening the door, seemingly flustered. And out of all the amazing things you've accomplished in your life, making this rugged looking man blush was probably your greatest pride.

When he helps you out of the car, holding your hand firmly and cleaving to your waist; you wanted nothing more than to kiss him under the pouring rain, wildly and unhinged, just like last time. But this particular spot possibly had too many curious eyes of which you were unaware of. He obviously doesn't need to guide you through his house, since you already know nearly every corner of it, except for one. His bedroom. And apparently, that's the precise location he's taking you to.

"Please excuse the mess," he says, placing one hand on the door handle, "I haven't had a woman in here for ages, so I'm afraid I probably won't live up to your expectations."

"Joel," you snort, "it's been a decade and a half since you last dated anyone. Trust me, my expectations are pretty low."

He scowls, squinting both eyes. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

It's honestly better than you thought. His bed is nicely done, brown bedsheets striking as warm and welcoming; the walls were painted a pretty, light shade of blue that matched the grayish curtains on the left. The drawers in front of his windows had a bunch of stuff scattered on top of them: a CD player along with a few music discs, some papers, a cap and a pair of reading glasses, batteries, one screwdriver and a framed picture of him and Sarah at the beach. Meanwhile, the nightstand simply had one lamp and an alarm-clock on it. Over the bed's headboard were one poster of a music festival, the image of a landscape and an advert of what you guessed must've been a club, that read 'tacos and beer" on it. The door to the bathroom was on the right.

Messy, yet tidy at the same time. Very Joel-like.

"No way..." you murmur, eyeing the guitar beside his bed. "All this time I thought it was a myth."

"What?" he asks from behind you.

"Dad told me you used to serenade girls back in college and that you wanted to become a singer." A giggle escapes your lips, unable to contain it. "I remember saying he was surely making it up, but..."

"I didn't- I mean..." he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his chest swell with your laughter. "Oh, shut up!"

"Make me." The lingering, mischievous smile on your face made his heart pound and blood rush. "Come on, Miller. Shut me up, I dare you."

His eyes darken, but you don't falter for a second. He doesn't move a muscle, solely watching as you took off his jacket and threw it to the bed.

"You dare me?" his voice goes drops an octave, following your every move closely. "That's rather bold of you, sweetheart."

"Mhm," without breaking eye contact, you start taking off your boots. "And yet you're doing nothing about it."

Joel starts walking towards you slowly, holding your gaze intently. Your hair was damp and your clothes were still wet; it didn't really matter that the air was chilly cause you still felt warm all over. He soon invades your space, cupping your chin in his big hand and lifting your head upwards.

"Well, you're awfully quiet now, aren't ya'?" his hot breath fanned across your cheeks, the gap between your faces being basically invisible.

"I'm just waiting for you to start singing some random song by Alabama or Johnny Cash," you scoff. "Like a good ol' Texan ma-"

He doesn't let you finish the sentence, abruptly crashing his lips into your own. Joel isn't delicate about it and the fervor with which he kisses you makes your body stumble a few steps backwards. Your shoulders hit the wall and he pins you against it as your mouths find a way to mold perfectly, at a much nicer pace than last time. You throw your hands around his neck and let your fingers tangle in the curls around his nape, tasting the fresh mint on his lips. His hands rest on your hips, chests pressed together as the temperature kept rising with each second that went on.

You part your lips in order to grant him deeper access, feeling his tongue slide past your teeth and meeting your own in an ardent, heated way. It was perfect, until he broke apart, looking down at you with an asserted confidence.

"You really know nothing 'bout country music," he says in between shaky breaths, beaming. "S'that what you wanted?"

"Yes," you manage to say.

"Then say 'thank you'," Joel indicates petulantly, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, don't be such a brat."

You blink twice, your brain still buzzing with the sensation of mouth on you, barely capable of processing anything else. "But I want more..."

"You'll take what I give you."

Shit, when he said it like that- "Thank you."

"That's my girl," he straightened his back, opening the door next to you. "Now, get your pretty ass in the shower before you catch a cold, 'kay?" You roll your eyes and hear him chuckle. "There's clean towers under the sink. You can take some clothes from my drawers, or Sarah's if you feel like it. I don't think she'll mind."

"Understood." He can tell you're annoyed, which he finds funny.

"Don't be mad at me, angel." Joel tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

You nod distractedly, lost in the cocky spark on his eyes. "I'm not mad. Just hoping you fuck me real good if you're making me wait for it."

Your words almost make him choke on his own saliva. "Sweetheart, you're making it real hard for me to be a gentleman."

It makes your ego boost, in a sense. "I'll be quick. Can you get something for dinner, though? I'm starving."

"Shit, darlin', pick a struggle," he mocks as you enter the bathroom, "are you horny or hungry?"

"Oh, you jerk!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

6:15 pm.

You take a quick glance at Joel's alarm clock once you come out of the shower. It's been little more than an hour since your dad's plane took off. You hope the rain hadn’t made his flight any difficult, cause the weather turned out to be quite a blessing for you.

The cozy feeling of a nice, warm shower after being soaked under the rain was starting to settle in your bones, making your limbs relax. Then you realize, you smell like Joel. The scent of his soap, his shampoo, even his laundry detergent, is all over you. It's intoxicating in the most fantastic way possible, making your insides burn with a thrill of excitement. You took one on his flannels, —dark green with red stripes— and decided to wear it without anything besides your underwear. It was pretty big anyway, and covered just the necessary areas.

You slid your socks back on when all of the sudden you hear the faint sound of music from the floor beneath. Curious, you walk towards the noise, finding out Joel was in the kitchen, crouched down in front of the opened fridge. The CD player that you saw earlier on his room was now on the table, playing a melody that you recognized almost immediately.

"I like this song," you say, leaning against the wall. "That's Billy Idol, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he recalls, taking out a medium sized plastic box from the fridge. "Tommy made that mix. There's plenty of hits from past decades. I think you'll enjoy it."

The man finally turns around to face you and his face fails to hide his surprise. The way his prying eyes sweep your body in detail, taking his time particularly on your bare thighs, almost made you feel self-conscious if it weren't for that shadow of desire that crossed his eyes and the way his nostrils flared from a contained breath.

"How is he, by the way?" you ask, still on the subject. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"Who?" he clearly forgot what he had just said.

"Your brother," you call to mind, "how is he?"

Joel sets the box down on the table and drifts his gaze back to your face. "Fine, I guess. Last time we spoke he said he'd go to Dallas." He takes two glasses from the pantry and what it looks like a bottle of wine. "I-uh... There isn't any real food in here besides those strawberries and chocolates that this guy brought for Sarah. Should I order something?"

You shake your head and walk over to him, "This will do. Won't she get mad if we eat them, though?"

"Don't think so," he replies, pouring the red liquid into the glasses. "I'll blame you if she does."

"Oh, okay-" you cock an eyebrow at him and hold back a giggle. "Thought you didn't like wine."

"It's a fancy drink," he explains, "s'only for special occasions."

"Oh?" you take a sip from it, eyes boring into his. "And what's tonight's?"

Joel smiles conceitedly, jutting his chin out. "I've got you all to myself."

You snort, feeling the heat soar across your cheeks. He takes the snack box and with a sly gesture asks you to follow him into the living room, the melodic sound of the eighties tune turning to background noise as you do. The only lights on are the ones in the kitchen and the lamps beside the couch, shining a perfect light on his features.

"Come here," he calls, the leather squealing under his weight when he sat down. You set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the tv, going to sit next to him. "No, sweetheart," he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I meant here."

His legs part slightly, making room for you to sit on his lap. Your smile broadened toward a soft chuckle, settling yourself on his thigh. Joel immediately gets his hands on you, one on your lower back and the other merely resting on your upper leg.

"So, who's this mystery man that's been giving gifts to your darling daughter?" he scoffs in response, reaching for a chocolate from the box.

"Honestly? No fuckin' clue." You hum in surprise, drinking from your wine. "She never involves with them, thank god, and once they meet me they never come by again."

"I see,” you muse, “you're the overprotective type," you bite on a strawberry next.

"I wouldn't say it like that..." he sees the sarcastic glimpse on your expression and holds back laughter. "It's a dad reflex, I can't control it."

"Right, sounds convincing."

You stretch your arm behind the couch, setting your elbow and laying the side of your face on your palm. His face is very close to yours but all you do is simply stare at each other; Joel's big brown eyes glimmer with infatuation. “Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" he asks lowly. "Somethin' more serious."

You wince in confusion, but still nod, "Sure."

He inhales sharply, taking a couple of seconds to actually say what he meant to. “Why are you here?" your frown deepens at his words. "I mean- Texas. I know you said you wanted to make up for the lost time with your old man, but... I feel like there's something else you're not saying."

It takes a minute for you to really sink in on his question. You nearly gulp down the alcohol before setting the glass down, avoiding his ardent gaze.

"Honestly?" you sigh, "There's so much to unpack that I don't even know where to start."

"Try." Although he didn't sound harsh, the effort he was asking you to put in wasn't something of your liking.

"Well, first of all," you meditate, clearing your throat, "the city didn't feel like home since my mom passed. It made me realize how much I missed here." He nods comprehensively, caressing the exposed skin of your thigh in a reassuring manner. "And then there's this- fear. Yeah, I guess it is fear... I've managed to accomplish so much in such short time that it actually fucking scares me to go any further and see that-" you stop, sighing and shaking your head. "That I've reached my limit."

For a moment, there's just silence floating between you, all that could be heard were the rain and a song by tears for fears.

"Darlin', look at me," he asks softly but you can't bring yourself to do it, embarrassed by your confession. "Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours."

And it's practically impossible for you to deny him anything. Specially when he asks so nicely, when his hand grabs the side of your face so gently— you give in, just like that.

"You're afraid to succeed because you don't know what to do with yourself afterwards. Is that it?" You nod faintly. "Can I speak frankly?"

"I have a feeling you will anyway-"

"Yeah. A bit of tough love, but you need’a hear it." Joel strokes your cheek sweetly and you get shivers from the affection in the action. "Sweetheart, I know what you're going through. Shit feels like it's either moving too fast or not moving at all. And I know how scary that is. Trust me, there's still plenty of time for you."

You square your eyes to his, "Sure, bet you were frightened when you were twenty four."

"Terrified," he spoke truthfully. "Everyone I knew was getting married, moving out or working their asses off."

"And you?" he grunts, taking a strawberry from the box. "What were you doing?" Joel eats the fruit patiently, simply staring at you silently. "Come ooon, don't play hard to get."

"Gotta promise you won't laugh."

It's a tricky business for someone who makes fun of everything, and yet you simply reply: "I swear."

"Fine," he rasps out in fake annoyance. "I used to make my own guitars and- sell 'em sometimes. I'd also teach guitar lessons and horseback riding."

Your eyes widen in surprise and something flutters in your stomach. "Shit, that's actually pretty cool!"

He groans, rolling his eyes at the same time, "I told you not to make fun of me."

"No, no- I mean it." You shuffle on his lap, resting a hand on his chest. "And you sound passionate about it... Why'd you stop?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, tightening his grip on your waist. "It went well for a couple years but I eventually had to get something more solid. More so after Sarah was born." He takes a deep breath in, the smell of his own shampoo on your hair hitting his nostrils and catching him off-guard.

"You should teach me," you suggest with a smug grin. "I always wanted to learn."

"What, guitar or horseback riding?" he wonders, suddenly nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Guitar. I'm pretty good at riding, if you must know." You feel him chuckle against your body, his facial hair scratching your sensitive skin.

"We'll see 'bout that," his voice comes out husky as he starts kissing along your jawline.

Joel's common sense jumped out the window long ago, but the string of self control that kept him sane all this time couldn't bear the weight of you wriggling on top of him, semi-naked and with his scent all over you. Something primal took over him, a glimpse of possessiveness that he didn't believe himself capable of feeling towards you specifically. He wanted you to wear that flannel around town so people would look at you and know who it belonged to; whose bed you've been visiting. He wanted you to smell of his cologne so other men would know that you weren't free for them.

Your fingers run through his soft curls, messing his hair while he grabs the back of your thighs and manhandles you onto straddling his lap. He nips and licks over all your vulnerable areas, making your breathing start to labour. How could he possibly know this well the easiest ways to have you so desperate this quick? Leaning into his touch, yearning for him even with the smallest action? He wasn't aware of the answer himself, he just knew.

Joel instinctively throws his head back when you tug at his hair and seize the opportunity to duck down and lay a sweet kiss on his forehead. His hands coast up your thighs, splaying his fingers on your ass to squeeze the flesh. You hold back a giggle, kissing the curve of his nose before catching his soft, soft lips on yours.

He slides an arm around your waist, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you as close as possible. You feel your nipples harden when his tongue ran along your bottom lip— tauntingly slow, until you allowed him full access to your mouth, letting him taste the sweet mixture of wine and strawberries on your tongue. But his vehemence didn't make you any less eager, kissing him back with just as much passion and vigor, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and mildly pulling at it with minor strength.

The action ignites a fire within him, seeing you on top, feeling your fingers roam around his cheekbones and along his jawline like you knew just how much fucking power you had over him... It was a new sensation, a new kind of desire he didn't recognize at first.

Joel's lips were swollen and his own excitement was starting to feel evident underneath you, which created a blunt ache between your legs. He usually appeared so big and mean, with those broad shoulders and permanent scowl on his face. Now, though... He seemed like he'd let you do just about anything with him, to him— it didn't really matter as long as you kept staring at him like that; through heavy lids, eyes sparkling with a profound, desperate need that spoke without words, saying 'only you get to see this side of me'.

You start grinding your hips against his, rubbing your clothed core above his growing boner in small, calculated circles as you shore yourself up with a hand to his chest. He merely admired you from his position, letting you have your way with him; all the while his gaze reflected patience, like he could take over the situation any second but enjoyed watching you lead.

"Joel," you call his name, leaning forward to kiss his chin, moving your lips all the way down his throat and feeling the nice scratch of his beard. Your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you come up to whisper in his ear: "Stay still."

Panting, he narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?" Though you don't give him enough time to figure out your words, getting back on your feet and parting his legs further with a light thump of your knee.

He observes your every move quietly, amused by your confidence and determination when you drop to your knees in front of him. Joel's cocky expression doesn't sway, not even when you drag your nails across his inner thigh, inching closer towards his very visible hard on. However, his body betrays him, selling a whole different story. His muscles tense, his jaw clenches and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," he hissed, refusing to place his hands on you.

"Or what?" you drawl, coming to rest your palm on his crotch. A simple, feathery touch that made his pulse accelerate.

"You'll regret it," he warns grimly.

"S'that so?" you start to unbuckle his belt, way too slow for his liking, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I think I can handle it."

He smirked, his hand slithers to the back of your scalp and forces you to lock eyes with him. "Don't test your luck, sweetheart."

You pout mockingly, doing exactly the opposite of what he was saying while dragging down the fabric just enough to free his cock. Your new found courage falters for a second, finally seeing him in all his size and girth. He was, by all means, a big one, the amount of precome oozing on the tip telling you just how much he loved being teased, despite whatever words came out of his mouth. The mere sight of it sent a new heated wave of slick between your thighs.

Joel mimicked your expression scornfully, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, "Too big for ya'?"

"None of that," you wrap your hand around the base, not really applying any pressure; though the sole warmth of your touch was enough to give him goosebumps, "we'll make it fit."

"That's my girl."

With a chuckle, you lower your head to kiss the inside of his thigh, the pads of your fingers softly grazing the veins on his length. His whole body shudders, leaking onto your hand and letting out a subtle gasp as you spread kisses all along his shaft. Your eyes peer into his soul when you gently place your lips to the slit, tasting the salty precome as he calls your name in what resembles a desperate plea. In a swift move, you finally take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and deciding to put an end to his suffering. He mutters a gruff 'fuck' when you attempt to take him farther, pumping what you couldn't yet fit and snaking your free hand under the hem of his denim shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly.

"Shit, darlin'-" you feel the heaviness of his palm simply resting on the back of your head, not pushing or forcing you in any way, but allowing you to adapt to his size. "The only way to get ya' to stop talking is with a mouth full of cock, ain't it?"

You hum in response and the sensation is completely enrapturing for Joel, his callused fingers tangle in your hair to ground him as he releases a shaky breath. It's a huge challenge to focus on anything else but him; your mind whirring with a familiar dizziness while you bob your head up and down his shaft, intoxicated by the taste of him, the smell of him and every sound that escapes his lips, making your clit throb with need and your arousal pool in your panties, uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

For Joel, it's overwhelming.

He's never really been the noisy type during sex but heck— you were doing it for him. He's a panting mess above you, his hips buck ever so slightly in tandem with your mouth, trying not to lose it entirely. Your spit drools down his dick and the way your dark, dilated pupils sparkle with lust as you hollow your cheeks around him pulls a groan deep from his throat.

"That's it, you can take it," he coaxes when your nose nudges his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "Good fuckin' girl, just like that..."

Enticed with the praise, you keep repeating the motion, sliding one hand to hold his hipbone for support and feeling his burning skin under your touch whilst the other plays with his balls to aid his pleasure. The obscene slick sounds mix in the air with his hoarse cursing, the rain and the faint music of kings of leon, sex on fire.

He looks so good from this angle, chest rising and falling with heavy, irregular breaths, head thrown back and both hands on you, keeping you angled for his cock. Drops of precum roll on your tongue as you keep changing the pace at which your head moves, tears welling in your eyes and jaw going slack. Shit, you're aching for him so bad that the only thing you can think of to relieve the need is squeeze your thighs together in order to create some friction. And it works, the action eliciting a moan from you that makes him fucking whimper your name.

"Bet your cunt's drippin' just from sucking my dick," he muffles a laugh that turns halfway into a sigh when you pay special attention to the ruddy, sensitive tip. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

You can tell he is by the way his cock twitches in your mouth; his spine straightens at the heat gathering between his legs and he tries to pull you off against your will, uttering a warning that you chose to ignore. Joel's lips part in a throaty groan when he reaches his high, feeling the outline of your fingers digging harshly on his hip, your hand rubbing his length and your tongue lapping at his slit, taking in every single drop of his release until he's spent, right before pressing a soft kiss to it that makes him shiver. And hell— contrary to others, he tasted good; warm and thick, coating your senses.

His heart beats aggressively against his ribs and he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to get back on your feet while resting your hands on his waist. Although his eyes are barely open, he can quite literally feel your smile when you chastely kiss his lips. He chuckles breathlessly as you sit beside him, tugging himself back in his pants.

"We're not done yet," he says, grabbing the back of your knee and promptly engulfing your leg around his waist, maneuvering your body so that your back rests against the couch and he's crouched down, caged in the middle of your thighs. "I said I'd make it up to you and I will."

"Well, you've certainly got some stamina in you, old man," you poke fun at him, raising a hand to move those rebellious curls away from his eyes.

Joel smiles, caressing your cheek affectionately. "Always got somethin' to say, don't ya'?"

"Oh, Mr. Miller," you coo, enveloping your arms around his neck, "we both know just how much you love to hear me talk."

"Mhm," he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, "yes, I reckon you're right."

His big hand covers nearly half of your face as he holds you still, crashing your lips together. He kisses you deeply, vigorously, in a way that makes you wonder if you could possibly drown in a person's essence. His other palm slides between your bodies to start undoing the buttons of the flannel —his flannel— you were wearing. You can't help but whine when he draws back, watching you from above.

"Joel-" blood rushes through your ears and can feel your cheeks warm up as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers coasting down your throat and to the valley of your breasts, licking his lips when he sees your hardened nipples.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he speaks freely, without holding back emotion, and it makes your heart skip a beat. "Such a sweet, sweet girl I can't get enough of."

"Then take a picture," you purr, "it'll last longer."

He stares at you through a measuring squint, a lighthearted smile forming on his face. "Since you insist." It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, until you finally recall that there's actually a camera inside your purse; one that he reaches for. "If I remember correctly... You said I could take as many as I like."

You lightly squeeze his waist with your thighs, feeling your whole body burn with anticipation. "I did say that..."

"Let's just pray your dad won't find these hanging around," he ponders, turning your face slightly to the side. "He'll have my head."

"And that would be terrible..."

He takes the Polaroid with one hand, the other coming to grope your breast as he backs off for a better angle, ultimately deciding to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck instead, purely holding you there. You glance at the lens, making your best "fuck me" eyes added to a cheeky smile, hearing him curse under his breath prior to snapping the picture.

"You've got the prettiest fucking tits I've even seen, sweetheart," he snarls, laying a palm flat over your lower abdomen while he waited for the photo.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got such a marvelous way with words?" he suppressed a laugh, safeguarding the picture on the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just a few women." Before you can even begin to act annoyed, he sets the camera aside and leans down to kiss your collarbones, the pad of his thumb kneading circles around your sensitive nipple. "Look at you, honey," he murmurs, "you're so easy to please... Or is it just because of me?"

You're panting, your back arching in response to his constant ministrations, every inch of your skin blushing under his attention. "I think it's-" you're cut off by the sudden need to swallow when he sucks a mark on the vulnerable skin between your breasts, "you."

His body vibrates with a laugh and you feel his hand palm your clothed sex, dragging his tongue over your delicate nipple, gently nibbling at it. You screw your eyes shut and let a single, fluttery moan slide past your lips when his thumb nudges your clit.

"So wet just from giving head?" Joel shakes his head in fake disapproval. "Who knew you were such a horny little thing?"

You are holding onto his bicep for dear life, fearing you might collapse into oblivion if you part from his body. His index glides across your slit over the drenched cotton fabric, making you squirm beneath him.

"You- you tasted good," you babble, mind all over the place. 

"Yeah?" his chest swells with pride, "you should taste yourself, angel," his mouth travels across your abdomen, "sweetest thing I've ever had."

It's pointless trying to conjure a response, you're simply too far gone by now. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your thighs, flattening his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You whimper, running your fingers through his locks and bucking your hips to meet his face.

"Please," you blurt out, "Joel, please..."

"What, sweetheart?" he asks, moving the underwear aside to directly touch your clit, fondling it as he watched your slick coat his fingers. "What do you want?" But you can't conceive an answer, all that could come out of your mouth were those pathetic, desperate moans. "Use your words."

With his free hand he plays with your nipple, grabbing your breast with his entire hand. "I want you."

He tauntingly moves his fingers around your seam, refusing to go any further. "Say it again."

"I want you, Joel."

Cocky bastard.

He licks his fingers clean and starts getting off the couch, leaving you with a confused, dumbfounded expression that nearly makes him crack up.

"You didn't really believe I'd be fucking you on the couch, did ya'?" he teases, but all you can muster up is a barely audible 'oh'. "Come on, let's take this to my room. And don't forget to bring that camera of yours."

Mind still dazing, you obey his instructions, following him silently upstairs as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. For a second, he glances back at you, gifting a soft, reassuring grin before extending his arm to grab your fingers, holding your hand in a pure, intimate touch.

And just for that moment, you forget that he's actually your dad's oldest friend, that he's Sarah's father or any other thought of the sort. He's just Joel. Joel Miller, the only man that has managed to make you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, or that made you blush with merely a few compliments.

"Ask me to kiss you," he urges, taking the camera from your hands and carefully placing it on his bedside table, his eyesight fixed on you.

"Kiss me," you don't ask, you downright beg.

He does, though it's not like the previous times. He's tender, almost languid about it. His hands are on your bare hips while yours cup his cheeks; Joel's fingers reach to remove the flannel from your shoulders and moves his lips to the newly exposed skin, murmuring constant admirations. You feel your lungs clench and a tingly sensation on your lower belly.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'." You let the shirt slide down your arms and fall to the floor. "Gonna show you what you've been missin' out on by fooling around with those stupid boys." His words go straight to your core as he takes a step back to sit on the edge of his bed. "Take them off," he gestures to the last piece of clothing on your body.

You compel to his wish, stripping under his prying eyes while he lazily gets rid of his boots. His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the glistening mess he's made of you, promptly dragging you on top of him. Your hands lay flat on his exposed chest shortly before he switches positions, readjusting you on the middle of the bed.

"Joel, please just-" you whine when he keeps playing with your entrance, stretching you with his fingers. Your skin scorches with desire, knees weak from the growing heat on your lower body.

"Stop nagging, sweetheart," he grits through his own lust, his gaze impossibly dark. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Joel, I'm too worked up, I-" you gasp when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that particular spot that made your toes curl. "Fuck..."

"Come on, baby." He ducks down to kiss the skin behind your ear and his beard tickles nicely. "It's just the two of us now, feel free to be as loud as you need to."

His pants are undone and hanging loosely on his hips, the image being so blatantly erotic that only managed to get you more aroused as you fumble to get rid of his shirt. He chuckles at your eagerness, shrugging it out of the way and haphazardly kicking off his jeans and underwear altogether, discarding them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You take a second to revel on his naked figure, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, the marked collarbones and every noticeable mole. His hair is messy from your fingers, a thin layer of sweat sticks some curls to his temples as his wild, hungry eyes bask in the view of your sopping pussy when he parts your shaky legs further. But the moment of appreciation is brief, both of you being edged and spurred on.

He maneuvers a hand to your lower back and aligns your hips with his, watching the way your hole drips for him, wetting his bedsheets. You're a panting mess beneath him, lightly scratching his shoulder-blades and biting on your bottom lip, looking up at him doe-eyed and all splayed out for him to take. Joel wants to tell you just how badly he's longed for this— how he's been yearning to have you so achingly bad. But right now, feelings overrun his thoughts, especially after hearing his name spilling from your lips, begging for him to take you.

"Relax, darlin'." Joel teases your slit with the head of his cock, rubbing it along your sex and coating it with your slick. Your head tilts backwards, dipping on his pillows, small whines keep spilling from your mouth. "I won't go easy on you."

"Great, cause I don't want you to-" your slurred words get muffled by the sudden feeling of intrusion as he finally buries himself in your cunt, letting out a filthy, guttural groan.

You close your eyes, feeling lightheaded and staggered from the way he was filling you up so nicely, the stretch being a tad painful at first, but the kind of pain that could only ever feel good. Then your whole body quivers from head to toe.

"That's it, you can take it," he mutters, peppering kisses to your chin and collarbones as he bottoms out. "Fuck, you feel divine-" The tight, warm grip you welcome him with resembles nothing he's ever had before. This is new, this is you.

You bear down on his cock, enveloping your legs around his waist and lifting your hips to encourage him. He holds you down with a firm grip around your neck, starting to set a pace with his hips as he draws out and then back in slowly, roughly, making your back arch. Your erect nipples brush against his strong chest and create a delightful friction that has you moaning louder than you could've expected. You're amazed by the way he thrusts into you, somehow mindful to hit every right spot inside you —needless to say that it was something that others could hardly manage before—, his pubic hair tickles the skin below your belly button, sending shivers down your spine that prompt you to drag your nails down his back.

"Look," he indicates, despite your inability to even think straight. "Look," he repeats harshly, using the hand that was on your hips to tilt your head downwards, forcing you to stare at where your bodies connected. It was obscene, the wet noises of your pussy and skin clapping against skin sounding purely pornographic. "Look at the mess you're making."

"Joel, I-" you can't form sentences properly, all your attention being focused on how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, for god's sake..."

"Lemme help with that," he speaks breathlessly, pining your leg over the crook of his elbow to make his thrusts deeper, more precise. You cry out in bliss, feeling the heat expanding from your stomach to your legs. "Yeah, you're close, I can fuckin' feel it- fuck..."

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his dick just right. He knows he's in too deep when you call out his name like it's the only word you can remember, when he wallows in the glorious view of your pretty face contorted in pleasure. He looses the grip on your neck and strokes your lower lip with his thumb, prodding you to keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. It's electrifying, a feverish kind of sensation that gratifies every nerve on your body.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, overcame by the intense feeling of euphoria that your body was providing. You realize in that moment that the reason why Joel could fill that void so easily was because he kept prioritizing you above him. Your pleasure was his, too.

"Jesus Christ, Joel-" you mewl when he abruptly pulls out, “… Worth the wait.”

He laughs shakily, kissing your lips shortly. "Turn around, sweetheart. I want to fuck you from behind."

With a buzzing dizziness, you follow his instruction. God, right now you'd do just about anything if he asked you to. You notice movement from his part and patiently wait with your butt up in the air for him to stuff you again; instead, you hear the familiar clicking sound of the Polaroid camera.

"You fucker," you chuckle, "did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Couldn't help myself," he groans, caressing the soft flesh before lightly slapping it. "You look too damn gorgeous." The hit on your skin burns nicely and you can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shit- do that again..."

You can practically hear his smile when he talks, "You into that?" he repeats the action with a little more force and the pain sends a shock of pure pleasure between your legs, your own fluids dripping down your thighs. "F'course you are, I should've guessed with that attitude of yours."

He plays with your swollen pussy, enjoying your tiny moans and the way your legs tremble as you fist the sheets underneath you, burying your face on his pillow when he spanks you again— this time so hard that it probably left a mark. But before the sting washes away he takes the opportunity to enter you in one swift move, holding your hips steady and trailing his fingers along your spine.

"That's my sweet girl," he praises a midst, starting to grind his cock inside you. "Taking me like you were made for it."

This is way more intense, the angle allowing him to hit deeper, harsher. His gruff moans become more frequent as he speeds up his pace, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. The sensation was purely fantastic, melting every thought away and just leaving Joel Miller to fill you in every sense of the word. His hands are never still, roaming your responsive areas, caressing the most sensitive and always taking care of your aching clit.

You might cry from the overwhelming ecstasy— the way his tip constantly hits the depths of your cunt with each relentless thrust has you seeing stars. Joel gets a thrill from the way you can't seem to get enough of him either, throwing your hips back to meet his unwavering pace, clawing at the pillows and moaning helplessly, pushing him close to his climax.

"Joel, it's too much..." you mumble. "Please, I can't-"

He hunches over you, kissing your nape to ease the overpowering sensations, "Yes, you can. You're a big girl, you can take it." And then your vision goes blurry, all you're able to hear being his disjointed, lewd moans; all you can feel is his hard, hot body flushed to yours, his cock twitching inside you and the wetness of your own body. "That's it, give me another one, baby- fuuuck..."

The buildup is so strong you nearly collapse, feeling yourself tremble as he chases his orgasm, fucking you through yours. His fingers reach your bundle of nerves and apply barely any pressure, which has you coming undone in seconds, absolutely soaking his dick and the sheets beneath you, chanting his name like a prayer. A string of curses falls from his lips as he pulls out and quickly manhandles your fucked out self to lay on your back. He exhales sharply through his nose, spilling his load all over your stomach without even touching himself.

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath and looking intently at each other’s eyes before he rolls over, going limp beside you. You stare blankly at de ceiling, suddenly feeling aggressively aware of your sticky skin covered in sweat and cum, the numbness on your lower body that will surely feel sore in the morning and all the marks he's left dispersed on you. You feel satisfied, fulfilled even. Joy bubbles up your chest and comes out in form of a giggle, one you're unable to hold back.

"What?" he asks, turning his face towards you with a half-smile.

"I don't know, I just..." you shake your head, still laughing. "I don't know."

He chortles in disbelief, holding out a hand to take some tissues from the bedside drawer and going to swipe his mess off your tummy and inner thighs. "Shit, I think I might’ve just fucked the sense out of ya'."

Joel sets himself between your parted legs, laying the weight of his upper body on top of you, resting his chin on your chest, eyes boring into yours. He looks so young like this, despite the greying hair and the small wrinkles, his beautiful brown orbs sparkle ever so brightly under your attentive gaze.

"What will your dad say when he returns and finds out his only daughter has completely lost her mind?" he jokes, cradling you in his big arms.

"Come on," you roll your eyes playfully, "we both know that if I had been in my right mind since the beginning, I probably wouldn't be in your bed right now." He doesn't reply, but his smile doesn't fade either. Joel nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse zone briefly before closing his eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp in utter silence.

The wind was howling outside, rustling the tree branches, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your ribs, his deep breaths fanning across your shoulder and his unique scent all around you, on you. In spite of the cold air, your naked bodies are warm enough to stay comfortably in this position, at least for a while— however, there's something deep inside you that doesn't want this moment to end.

"Hey," you call him lowly and he hums in response, "can we order pizza?"

He nods faintly, "Anything you want, honey."

Anything.

If only.

"I'll call," you say. "Any specific requests?"

"As long as there isn't any pineapple on it, we're fine." You glance down at him, almost appalled.

"You don't like pineapple on pizza?"

"No. That's disgusting, come on."

"Oh, grow up!" he opens his mouth to retort, but when he sees your dismayed expression he can merely bark a laugh that you get infected with.

"Order whatever you want," he whispers in your ear. "But you'll have to promise something."

"What's that?" you raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Say you'll stay," he murmurs, slightly hesitant. "Stay here and spend the night with me."

The proposal takes you by surprise, so much that you actually stopped breathing. You ponder wether if you could or you should; because, at the end, what would a night really mean? What could possibly change?

Nothing, right?

Besides, no one had to know.

(...)

A few moments later you're downstairs looking for your phone, wearing nothing other than his green flannel. Joel decided to take a shower while you ordered the food and you chose to walk around the house, paying attention to the little details you hadn't quite noticed before.

Now that you see it, there are plenty of horse images here and there. Very Texan of Joel, you can't deny. Lots of pictures of Sarah growing up, some of him and Tommy and a good deal with your dad. None of his ex-wife. In fact, there's no proof that she even existed. You decide not too think too hard about it, since it was none of your business after all.

You pour yourself a glass of water and wander your eyes across the amount of pills he usually takes. Anxiety pills, painkillers, vitamins. What could possibly be troubling this middle-aged man so bad? Again, you decide to turn a blind eye and simply pick up the phone, expecting a message from your dad to tell you he arrived in Boston well and safe. Instead, you find that your direct messages in social media have new requests. Curious, you open them to see what the fuzz was about.

Hi!

This is Will

I don't know if Sarah mentioned me...

I'm her English teacher, haha

I hope you don't find this creepy, your profile popped up in my 'people you may know' section and since Sarah said she wanted to introduce us, I thought I might just say hi 😉

Honestly, with everything that went down you had nearly forgotten about Sarah's 'you should hang out with people your age' speech. And now that you were stalking his profile, he appeared to be maybe a couple years older than you— handsome in a boyish, intelectual way, if that made sense. Apparently, he studied in New York too, and lived in Queens.

Hi!

Yeah, I reckon she did

What's up, Queens? :)

You don't really expect a reply, not giving much thought to anything in the moment. Though, an involuntary smile twitches your lips when there's a quick message that reads "Not much, Brooklyn" and the writing bubble underneath.

After all, having a friend in Austin wouldn't hurt.

[mariefilms]

╰───► MORAL CONSCIENCE- e. williams smau.

「cuatro」 ⇢ hasta cuando

Pairing — streamer! ellie x youtuber!black fem!reader x rockstar! dina

warnings — sex tapes, strap on sex, weed, strap sucking, idk what worse i think that’s it

a/n i wasn’t gonna write smut but well…..( btw, this is 3 months after chp 3 🧘🏾) this is also not proofread so.. ntm !!

chapter 3 ⇢ chapter 5

ellie had made it to your apartment not long after you blocked dina on everything. you were sick of her back and forth shit. you couldn’t understand how she would just play with your emotions and think it’s a game w/ no consequences.

deciding not to tell ellie anything that just transpired you put on a face of faux happiness.

“hi baby” ellie greeted you with a bone crushing hug and you fell right into it. “i missed you” was whispered on your lips softly as she gave you multiple chaste kisses making you giggle. “it’s barely been two days, girl pleaseee” she rolls her eyes at your teasing and moves to sit on the couch and pull out some pre-rolls that she got off of jesse and lighting one before offering you the first hit. you took it before passing it back to ellie.

“ellie. we should bake a cake high.” you looked over at her and had a wild smile plastered across your face. she looked up at you from her slouched position on the couch questioningly. “why do you look on the verge of a psychotic break!?” she giggled at your immediate pout in response to her teasing. “stop ittttt, i’m serious! it would be so fun, i might even record it since i need new content anyway” you looked over at ellie to see if she would agree to find her staring at you with something shining in her eyes. you rose your eyebrow in question and she shook her head with a chuckle. “fine, i’ll do it !” sighing she got up and gathered all the stuff needed to get you high out of your minds.

you squealed in happiness as she agreed and ran to the kitchen to get everything in place, luckily your camera and lighting was already set up. (you may have planned to persuade her into saying yes but she doesn’t need to know that !!) .

“ellie come on ! i’ve got everything ready!” you yelled out while digging in your cupboards for cake mix and anything else you might need. “i’m literally right here” she said as she slinked up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“you know you can’t be like this on camera right?” you turned around in her arms with the ingredients in your hands to find her smirking down at you before bending down and pecking you on the lips while grabbing the stuff in your hands and putting it on the table.

“ok let’s start, ready” she arranged the ingredients on th table that looked good on camera as you turned the camera on and started recording.

“hi, youtube! i know ive been MIA for like……. months, but i’m back! and i have a special guest !” you turned to look at ellie who was apparently already lighting a blunt! “psst.. ellie” you smacked her arm and pointed to the camera when she acknowledged you (finally). “ hm? oh. sup, i’m ellie” she shrugged and went back to what she was doing before you had interrupted her. “well then! i’ll just introduce her since she wants to be aggy!” you heard her scoff behind you at your comment but chose to ignore it in favor of telling the people who she was and what y’all were doing for todays video.

“and that’s basically it! so me and ellie are gonna go get… como se dice… smacked and then we’ll be back!”

you didn’t come back. in fact you never even got to start on baking the cake. as soon as the high hit you and ellie she brought up this crazy idea of making a sextape. super risky, i know. but the way she said it made you feel a certain heat start forming in your lower region. the hand rubbing up and down your inner thighs certainly didn’t help with clearing your mind at all. all you could think about was ellie and she made sure you stayed like that.

next thing you knew you were in your bedroom, naked, sweaty and a flash blinding you as ellie put the camera in your face while you were sucking her strap down your throat to get it, in her words, nice and wet so she could fuck you into the bed. just thinking about what was to come made you get all hot and bothered and you were sure the camera was picking up on all your blissed out expressions.

“fuck that’s it baby”

“takin’ me so well ma’”

“deeper.. i know you can do it baby.”

fuck. you were in heaven. ellie was on a different type of timing that day and you couldn’t get enough of it. you dragged one of your hands down from ellie’s thigh and started making little circles on your clit giving it some much needed stimulation. “i think you’re ready baby. you’ve been so good f’me” ellie bit her lip and brung the phone closer to where your lips connected to the base of the strap watching it disappear in your mouth and reappear. “fuck, you’re so sexy baby”

ellie pulled you off by your hair and dragged you up into a bruising kiss. it was sloppy and wet with spit all over each others mouths and tongues exploring. “c‘mon ellie, i’m ready! you said it yourself” you mumbled in between kisses as best as you can when you felt her reach down and spread your lips, dragging a finger in your slit letting it slightly tease your hole and gather your slick. she removed her hand making you whimper in frustration until you saw her put the same finger in her mouth and sucks. “shit y/n you taste so good” she groaned around her finger making your clit twitch as a wave of strong arousal passed through you at such a pornographic display.

“if you don’t fuck me right now ellie.”

“yes ma’am” she chuckled and took the base of her strap to line it up with your sopping wet pussy. when she slid in to the hilt your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you moaned wantonly. “fuckkk ellie” you dragged your hips up and down on her dick setting a steady, punishing and mind-numbing pace. it was so good and you were hitting ellie’s clit just right with every bounce. ellie leaned up and planted her feet on the bed to fuck up into you causing you to scream at the intensity of the sensation. “ look at the camera f’me baby. you look so good crying on my dick” you moaned pathetically and opened your eyes to look into the camera.

tags </3 @brackishkittie @robinismywifee @aouiaa @elliesbitchvenus @vnus-starr

[brittle-doughie]

Hello this is the 5th time i've resent this ask sorry if I seem impatient.

Hey Brittle! Can you make a post focusing on y/n based on these lyrics? Specifically y/n angst, (y/n cookie specifically, just to make it clear since the word heart is in the lyrics and cookies probably don't have that organ, probably don't have any organs infact).

"Existing out of spite.

I'm existing out of spite.

I know infinity, she howls with the past as they gouge each other's eyes. I know duplicity, who once was a child born in villainy.

I know infinity, she howls with the past as they gouge each other's eyes.

I know what hides in me, if only you knew the same.

Now do you hate me? Are you afraid of me? Are you able to feel culpability? Come forth and kill me, bow down and worship me. Take your time, all we have is eternity.

Now with a new start, broken and torn apart, Nothing in me resembles a human heart.

My name is unknown, something I've never told, on my own I declare "I don't wanna go home!"

All we have is eternity.

Can you feel culpability?"

Sorry if there's too much lyrics oh and the song's by GHOST btw, it's called SCAPEG♾️AT k bye.

The lyrics are a bit more iffy this time, but I’ll try to make sense of it.

(Existing out of spite. I’m existing out of spite)

If the cookies around you wanted to keep using you as blame for what they’ve, then fine. You’ll keep existing, not because you’re hopeful things will change, but out of spite for the ones that wish to not see you around. Too bad for them, they’re not getting that wish.

(Now do you hate me? Are you afraid of me? Are you able to feel culpability?)

You’re giving in to your resentment and gave the cookies a REAL reason to use you as a scapegoat. Embracing the image they saw of you, the cookies were surprised to see just how vile you ended up, to the point of feeling fear. Wasn’t this what they wanted? To always keep blaming you for everything? Or did culpability finally reach them?

(Now with a new start. Broken and torn apart. Nothing in me resembles a human heart)

You can never go back to who you once were. They will have to get used to the new you, something of their creation. It doesn’t resemble a heart to them anymore, they’ve destroyed it a long time ago…

(All we have is eternity. Can you feel culpability?)

The cookies will be given plenty of time for the consequences of what they’ve done to you sink in, they have all of eternity after all. Now, you’ll ask them again very slowly. Do they feel culpability now?

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Her avoidance

She can talk. She can fight. She can quit. But can she really open up?

Can she open up about her feelings? About her vulnerabilities? About her fears? Can she not be strong for a sec? Can she admit she dropped a ball? Can she cry in public? Can she break in front of someone important to her? Can she let go of her G woman mask for a sec and be just Sydney, the woman who does not get it all together at all times? The one who feels relegated and thus hurt by her business partner? Can she voice her needs and frustrations about it in an honest conversation that invariably will take an emotional turn?

Can she, not during an argument, but during a heart-to-heart conversation really voice out how she feels and why? Can she put her needs into words assertively and clearly, without having to resort to anger?

Because anger is not always an explosion during an argument or a result of a stressful situation. No. For avoidants, anger is also a fuse that blows after the avoidant mechanisms have done their job for a while covering up what has been really simmering underneath the surface for far too long. Then the burst of anger happens as a consequence of that not as a proactive behavior, and usually comes accompanied by other emotions, such as frustration, guilt, grief sometimes, etc.

Can Syd really open up to Carmy or to anyone else for that matter, like she once did under that table or in the back alley? -both situations initiated by Carmy btw, not by her-

Can Syd really stop avoiding talking about things that hurt her or that would put her vulnerability on full display?

Can Syd open up about any emotion or situation that DOES NOT solidify her G woman persona?

She operates from that G woman level at all times. Even around her father. She's self-sufficient, strong, hard-working, courageous, intelligent, talented, extroverted, talkative, can be a social butterfly, etc. BUT CAN SHE OPEN UP ABOUT ANYTHING THAT UNDERMINES THAT DEMEANOR SHE HIDES BEHIND AT ALL TIMES?

My guess is YES. She can. She chooses not to, though. Because she's avoidant in nature, which is probably rooted in her motherless upbringing. Not saying she lacked love and nurturing here, in fact I strongly believe she had all of that and I went over that here already. Syd is fine (IK it doesn't look like it rn) and she will be OK because of that. I'm sure. She's got this.

But she grew up without a mother nonetheless. And that took its toll on her. Of course it did, how could it not? Her getting along pretty much effortlessly with Nat and Tina (both mother figures) has a lot to do with that.

Growing up without a mother, no matter how great a job your father does to compensate for that absence, will, in one way or another, result in abandonment issues that don't necessarily have to be limitant although they can certainly be at some points of our lives, especially when exposed to highly stressful situations or life-changing events. Or when you know someone that turns your whole life upside down.

It's a delicate ecosystem.

In this delicate ecosystem, Syd's ecosystem, she developed a very sophisticated type of avoidance that does not cancel out her extroverted ways, they are actually fully compatible with it and highly valued in the professional realm:

Emotional avoidance

Emotional avoidance is a preemptive strike to avoid things that are perceived as threats and are associated with experiencing and/or expressing certain feelings that would jeopardize the G woman complex upon which her entire personality is built in her case. It's a defense mechanism, nothing else.

As long as it can be controlled, this mechanism, is not a big deal and can even work in our favor because it helps us to compartmentalize, when necessary. Now, when this avoidance causes conflicts to stay unresolved (I'm talking about a definitive resolution, not a quick patch) to the point of triggering panic attacks or insomnia, etc. then that avoidance has to be tackled differently because it becomes a problem.

It's important to clarify that this doesn't have to be permanent but rather consistent, meaning: it doesn't have to ALWAYS be the case.

But as long it's the PREDOMINANT TRAIT -which results in frequent issues that could be prevented or solved by not behaving this way, by not avoiding really opening up about feelings, by not postponing certain uncomfortable conversations, by not avoiding the conflict those conversations may bring to the surface, and again I am not talking about waiting for the anger to hit the fan and having a day of fury (great movie BTW), I'm talking about opening up about emotions, even the uncomfortable ones, the painful ones and putting all of that into words, clear words, assertive words. Even if that means tapping into a vulnerability that causes us unease - then it's a problem. A big one.

Effective communication

I'm talking about communicating effectively as I mentioned here and here.

For that communication to happen, her avoidant ways will have to be addressed and managed. I wish Syd, just like Carmy, would go about it in therapy, but mostly likely, taking into account that Sydney is Storer's creation, it will be forced upon her via the worst-case scenario or something along the lines of "traumatic". Like the inevitable convo Carm and her will have to have at some point and it won't be pretty. But it certainly is necessary. So, she will have to open up about what she feels for him and all the implications and base her decision on that, on all the things and feelings she's either in denial about, not ready to admit or avoiding.

That means that being Carmy's counterpoint in this case will allow her to work on her own unsolved issues, which include but are not limited to:

Avoidance

In return, her mere presence in Carmy's life allows and also forces him to improve whatever he needs to improve in himself to keep her by his side.

Like I said→ They complement each other. And they mirror each other.

Bonus track: Emmanuel Adamu is the only one she really opens up to (except Carmy when there's a table involved) and even THAT she finds hard to do as well. They love each other but their conversations, when tap into her vulnerabilities or fears turn into arguments that end up leaving her frustrated and obfuscated because he forces her to quit avoiding talking about certain topics Syd prefers to avoid.

That qualifies as class A avoidance when you have a problem letting your guard down even in front of your own father, the person you love the most in this world and who you know for a fact that will never hurt you and whose sole purpose is loving you and protecting you. So, anyone who comes after him, will not have it easy either. Obviously. Well, Carmy happens to be the one who comes after and he's as talented for avoidance and evasion as he is in the kitchen, so no wonder we are trapped in this limbo S3.

But we have a way out of here. I'm positive. In whatever way they want to do it, this effective communication will happen between them at some point. And if nothing works, they will always have a table to get under, I mean it's a restaurant, they have plenty of tables there, they just have to use them wisely ;)

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[undertheorangetree]

How to Improve HOTD S2

This is truly just me feeling frustrated with the second season and screaming into the void. Feel free to ignore it I wrote it at 10pm in a hater spiral and probably have some information wrong

1. Shift away from the Alicent vs Rhaenyra thing and highlight Aegon vs Rhaenyra. It would be hard when zero relationship had been established in season 1 but after Jaehaerys’s murder it would have been SOOO easy to shift the focus of Team Green on to Aegon and make him really want to take Nyra down.

2. Speaking of Nyra I’m begging them to give her some agency. Her son was MURDERED. She spent TEN DAYS SEARCHING FOR HIS BODY. She should’ve been ready and raring to go to war at the end of episode one!! She should be doing everything she can to destroy those who took her baby boy from her!! Instead they had her crying about going to war and no one taking her seriously for 5 episodes. Let her be morally grey I’m begging you she is not a saint nor should she be

3. Introduce Ulf and Hugh WHEN they claimed their dragons. No one cares about their lives yet. Regular viewers don’t know who they are. They can talk backstory once you’ve shown why they’re important

4. While we’re introducing characters GIVE US SOME TIME WITH DAERON. Non book readers have no idea who he is. Establishing his place in Oldtown, the fact that he has a dragon, the dichotomy between himself and his brothers all would have been GREAT to see before they started throwing his name around.

5. More screentime for the younger generation! Helaena lost so much of her arc due to them removing her fall into madness (which I’m not mad at btw) but showing her grief would’ve still been nice. Baela is ride or die for house targaryen and that’s about all we’ve seen from her, plz give my girl some agency. Rhaena is angry about being cast aside and that’s got so much meat for character motivations but EVEN THE WRITERS ARE IGNORING HER AND GIVING HER ONE 30 SECOND SCENE EVERY OTHER EPISODE. Jace is also being done dirty, they should be establishing reasons why we should care about him and why he’s such a good heir before the battle of the gullet (which in an ideal world would’ve been where we ended season 2 but).

6. ENOUGH WITH THE HARRENHAL ARC!! The first few scenes were fine but now it’s just repetitive. Daemon wanting to be king in his own right came out of nowhere and will have zero consequences when we all know Nyra is just going to take him back when he’s done pouting. He’s literally just wandering around Harrenhal like a freak. That arc needed 3 episodes at the absolute max to establish the castle and Alys and the river lords and then he should’ve come back. I hate him but they’re wasting his character.

7. Aemond turning into a super villain?? After we established he regretted what he did to Luke?? Trying to take out his own brother for power is fine and I support you if that’s what you want king but maybe give us some more context other than “brother bullies you in front of his friends”?? Maybe my sister was just mean but that’s an average sibling experience as far as I’m concerned. It would have made more sense with the characterization they had already given him if Aemond had been given no choice but to burn Aegon in order to save him and take out Rhaneys and Meleys. The 180 into anime villain felt way too abrupt (like dany going mad sorry)

8. Alicent and Cole………… as much as I fly the Alicent is gay flag it could’ve made sense if they didn’t just immediately beat us over the head with it. We were immediately thrown in the deep end of them having a sexual relationship with zero context other than “everything you feel for me… as your queen” PERHAPS GIVE US SOMETHING MORE. I actually would have loved Alicent reclaiming her sexuality after 20+ years of having to fuck her rotting old husband but they went about it the wrong way.

9. Speaking of Alicent, I feel like they truly do not know what to do with Alicent. They took away every ounce of agency she could have had in order to make her a victim and now they don’t have anything for her to do. They just keep taking everything from her in a way that just shoves her character in a box while also trying to maintain her as one of the main characters?? It’s just all very odd to me

10. In that same vein, I feel like they don’t really know what to do with ANYONE honestly. Game of Thrones also had a big cast following multiple locations but somehow juggling between them all felt much cleaner than it does here. It’s as if they lose track of their characters and forget about them so they throw in a quick 30 second scene to be like “btw they’re still here!!”

11. I need more character interactions. Aegon/Helaena. Daemon with his children. Just people you expect to have some kind of relationship. I don’t think any of those characters have ever actually had a significant interaction with each other which feels absolutely WILD to me but

12. STOP WITH THE TEAMS!!! STOP IT!!! There is no good guy and bad guy here and there shouldn’t be. It’s a monarchy, a whole ass empire that has its roots in an even worse empire. None of the Targaryens are good. They aren’t gods. Rhaenyra has been completely screwed over due to the patriarchy but being a victim doesn’t make you a good person. She’s still sacrificing the country for her birthright. Let her be evil, morally grey, ANYTHING is better than her pushing against common sense in order to seem like a good guy. Aegon and co as well shouldn’t be portrayed entirely of super villains and victims. They’ve also done a shitty thing but at the very least give us some nuance no one is entirely good or bad.

13. This is nitpicky so it’s at the end but it’s called house of the DRAGON. I wanna see more rider/dragon interaction. I shouldn’t be introduced to a dragon the same episode it’s maimed (Sunfyre). You shouldn’t be telling me one of the main characters has a dragon when we haven’t so much as heard her speak about it (Dreamfyre). If a bond is so important between a dragon and it’s rider I want to see that bond

• IN THAY SAME VEIN why was vermithor letting nyra and daemon get all up in his grill?? They’re bonded dragonriders they’ve got their bestie, he doesn’t. Shouldn’t he have lit them up for that?? What makes them so special?? He’s barbecuing Targaryen bastards left and right but these two get a pass?? Why??

And now for some general overall complaints🫶🏼

1. Fix your pacing I’m begging you. They could have made 8 episodes work if they had let us move through the plots faster but instead there’s so much dead air. After Jaehaerys was killed we should’ve been FLYING through plot points. Two child murders are enough to declare a war started, but we still hadn’t seen any battle until episode 4 and then it stalled out again. Harrenhal doesn’t need this much screentime. You don’t need to hint at Rhaena claiming Sheepstealer for 3+ episodes. We don’t need to hum and ha about going to war for 4 episodes. There should be fewer long shots of the actors faces simply reacting and more SPEAKING. More PLOT. MORE OF ANYTHING TO MOVE THE STORY FORWARD

2. Stop repeating information. Characters constantly beat you over the head with the same information over and over again. One character will tell a person something then a second character tells that same person almost the exact same thing an episode later it’s like no one proofread the script.

3. Why are you having your actors use giant words in order to sound more period accurate?? You don’t need to repeat lickspittle every five seconds. You don’t need to use gainsay or comportment. I promise your audience knows it’s a medieval setting, put the thesaurus down you sound like an idiot

4. It’s almost totally inaccessible for non book readers. I watch with my mom and sister, neither of whom have done any research about ASOIAF but have seen GOT, and I’m constantly explaining shit to them. The showrunners rely too much on people having read them that they don’t explain anything. I know Helaena has a dragon, but they don’t because NO ONE HAS MENTIONED IT BEFORE!! BY THE SECOND SEASON!!

5. This is just a me thing but I would’ve LOVED more regional costuming. We got a hint of it with Sabitha Frey wearing a headpiece when treating with Jace and I love the idea of each region having their own specific fashion trends. The costumes are fine, some are even great, but most are lacklustre and feel too fantasy to me. I’m a history girly I want to see more hoods and headpieces and different shapes in the dresses etc etc.

Despite all this there are still some great scenes!! Aspects of this season were awesome and I think the first two episodes in particular were really strong, there is just so much lost potential this season and it has been really disappointing. I’m still gonna be sat for the finale this week but I hope that they really up their game in season three

[devilheartsblog]

Here’s Part 2 of some ideas I’m doodled for my Winx rewrite

Last post seemed to do better than I expected and I’m glad a few people enjoyed it. So here are some more things I want to work with.

I like Artu and Roxy’s relationship but I would have also liked some backstory on them and more depth. Like Gantlos said “it’s just a dog”. How did Roxy get Artu? Is he adopted or bought? Is there a reason he doesn’t like anyone outside of Roxy and Klaus?

In my rewrite, yes. Abandoned as a puppy, a kid Roxy took him in after her mother left her dad unexpectedly. She basically raised Artu and he means a lot to her, but she never socialised him since she herself isn’t social with people (so while Artu may tolerate someone’s prescence he doesn’t like being touched or seen upclose). Roxy raising Artu is also why she gets pissed and earns her fairy form but doesn’t want the fairy gig since it ended up hurting her dog, because as a fairy the wizards are after her and Gantlos hurt Artu.

Speaking of Gantlos

Gantlos my beloved you’re so fucking bland the only personality trait you have is having fucked up pointy hands and a cool hat <3

Ok in all honestly I like his apathy to animals and the Winx in general, but that also applies to the other wizards to some extent. At least you can say something about the other wizards; Orgon’s voice is top tier, Duman has really cool powers and design, Anagan’s banter with Flora’s entertaining. This one’s technically a headcannon I made cannon in the rewrite. I did my research btw.

Gantlos has a pretty intense fear of deers also called Elafiphobia, even asking Duman to not shapeshift into one. It’s pretty bad, seeing a deer gets him pretty close to a panic attack. I’m not going to spoil why but I’ll say it’s a consequence of the Great Fairy Hunt. In fact all the Wizards despite being the cause have been affected by the fairy hunt, either overall or because of a major event. Gantlos’ deer phobia is also why he doesn’t like/care about animals initially, I mean, why should he like them? Just cause they’re cute? Hah!

Apart from Riven and Musa I hate the melodrama in season 4 it’s so shit. Since in my version Sky isn’t in the story cause king stuff, Mitzi is narratively cremated and Nabu doesn’t die, on top of planning to expand on Anagan and Flora’s relationship as rivals and Anagan “flirting” with her, it’d be weird for Helia to be like “eh”. Like even if Flora can hold her own I think he’d at least be a little concerned and annoyed at Anagan.

So yeah, Helia’s conflict is having a case of Impostor syndrome because Anagan’s a foil to him; confident, extroverted, confrontational, and actually bounces off of Flora really well. (Like, I don’t ship Anagan and Flora but the people who do I don’t blame them, it sounds more interesting) Even if Flora doesn’t reciprocate Anagan’s feelings, Helia feels inadequate and is anxious Flora will lose interest and might even break up with him since he’s the anti-social poet of the group. Timmy could even help after his confidence arc in Season 2. He’s not overprotective of Flora like wanting to fight Anagan since it kinda goes against his pacifism but the narrative doesn’t care about that as much as I do :/

And lastly I think it’s be neat if we saw a more fleshed out dynamic between the Wizards, the best I can think of is when they’re protected by Syllia and Duman almost slips their plan to which Anagan says he’s being whoosy, Orgon complains about being protected by fairies while Gantlos is fine with it.

A lot of the rewrite is focused on fleshing out the wizards because I want complex villains grr, and they’re perfect for it. The Earth Fairies? They’re good but they’re dead in my rewrite soooo-

I like to think Orgon is pretty manipulative of them. Was he always like this? No, but he’s desperate to secure the disappearance of magic from Earth, and his manipulation gets worse and worse as the episodes go on, in the end being threats and guilt-tripping. He still cares but mostly how the wizards can be of service to the Black Circle. And yes Duman is his favorite because he has the best powers. Shapeshifting will always be OP and the best power in my heart.

Anyway that’s all folks. If I make a part 3 it’ll probs cover some other stuff like Jason Queen, which I like his character, it’s perfect for Musa’s development (until they made Bloom the fucking main singer like WHYYY) or perhaps talk about Klaus or Morgana, Tecna and Timmy and more about Nabu. Anyway I’ll go watch some more nostalgic minecraft videos and webtoon rants. See ya!

[waltwhitmansbeard]

so i just read a post explaining why the op (and, according to the op, a lot of other people, even tho the post in question only had 32 notes, some of which were from people who disagreed with them) didn't like the cut to the crown keepers in last week's episode. while i'm totally on board with people not jibing with stuff that just doesn't work for them, i wanted offer some reasons why this seemingly hard pivot to people who are not the main characters of the story being told was a good decision to make (note good decision, not inherently the best decision, which i believe no one, including the dm, at a ttrpg table should ever be expected to make).

matt had an extremely powerful, extremely unexpected character decision dropped in his lap in the final moments of the previous episode. we don't know exactly how much time matt has between recordings, maybe a full week, maybe not, but either way, there's a very real chance that matt just did not have enough time to fully prepare a session to deal with fcg's death and what comes next.

sam now has to create a new character that a) is of a level with the rest of the party and b) makes narrative sense for him to be there. that takes time for both him and matt, and they might just need some space to work on that. when laudna died, marisha was willing to sit away from the table for several weeks because she knew that she wanted laudna to be resurrected, but sam may not want the same thing, and that's okay!

matt may want to fold the crown keepers into his main story, some or all of them—particularly dorian, whom both liam and the fans have been asking to return for a while now. dorian is clearly important to orym and the story that liam is trying to tell, and bringing the crown keepers in may be matt's way to do that.

matt—and dms generally—has always had to straddle a very fine line of making sure that his players are the main characters of their story who feel like their actions have real consequences and effects on the world, while also understanding that in reality, it doesn't make sense for half a dozen chucklefucks to have such an outsized effect on major cosmological goings-on like *checks notes* the potential release of a god-eater. this becomes especially true when you're on your third campaign set in the same world, and your players' previous ultra-powerful pcs are still around and definitely more adept and connected than their current pcs are. i, personally, think matt does a great job at walking that line, and one of the things he does that i appreciate is that he doesn't shy away from the fact that a) his players are powerful but not the most powerful and b) his players aren't the only one who care about what's going on in the world and who are taking actions to effect change. the current plotline re: ruidus is absolutely world-shaking and is causing all the divine girlies to cower in their demiplanes, so of course even the evil ones are going to be calling on their champions to help out. it makes more sense for opal to be involved (which, btw, matt has been hinting at for a while now) than not.

matt might need a fucking break! he's been doing this consistently for nine years now, and shit is complicated! handing over the reins to aabria for a week or two or three may be what he needs to not get burnt out.

dnd is an emotional game, and the entire cast might have been rocked hard by fcg's death. some space away for a week or two could help them process and regroup to get back into a story that is otherwise very stressful and action-packed.

or it's none of these! what do i know! i'm a random idiot on the internet! matt doesn't consult me on these matters! (though my dms are open if he wants to chat, i do have ideas)

i think it's tempting to think of the decisions made in and around critical role (or any ttrpg show) like those made for a television series, because the episodes are serialized and we love them so much. but this show is, first and foremost, a group of friends playing a game together, and not a carefully constructed narrative with the primary goal of entertaining an audience. the audience always has been and, frankly, always should be second to the wishes and fun of the people around that table. matt would not have asked aabria to step in and dm a crown keepers side arc if he didn't think it was a good decision for him and his players, and that priority is the correct one. we are being invited in to watch these friends have fun together, and that's a privilege that we're super lucky to have. as long as the cr story isn't doing things that are outright abusive or harmful to the cast or the audience, i don't think we should begrudge them the choices they make in the name of their own game.

again, it's okay if you're not vibing with the crown keepers! i didn't love the aeor arc of c2! not everything is for everyone! but i think accusing matt and the cast of narrative malfeasance is a bit much when, tbqh, they don't answer to us. they answer to each other.